At the push of a button
by DLHKM
Summary: Alfred wants to laugh, but the bile rising in his throat makes him want to puke more. Cold War one-shot; no pairings.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
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**Edit: Fixed some mistakes and structural stuff. Also added some things.  
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><p>Do they have any idea of how many there are?<p>

Alfred wonders, he really does.

The demand is always there ("We need more; can't let those reds beat us!"). Raising production, hiring more workers, contracting more scientists; the numbers are blowing up.

Blowing up.

Alfred wants to laugh, but the bile rising in his throat makes him want to puke more. He wonders if Russia feels this way: teetering, tottering, hanging over the edge. Then he laughs, his finger twitches, and he remembers that Russia is a sadistic bastard who is probably gleeful about all of this.

It makes Alfred _sick._

(He swallows the rising vomit.)

He never wanted _this_, a few would have been all right: five, maybe ten atomic bombs sounded reasonable. They tell him that the nuclear weapons are necessary, though, that they'll protect his people, and he's never argued with that logic before-so why start now?

(Because this is different: this is about egos and intimidation and pigheadedness. And his people shouldn't be involved. No civilians should be involved.)

Alfred isn't stupid, he knows that this is a competition based on intimidating weapons and threats that are all too real, and he's already realized just how _wrong_ this entire thing is. He wants to blame Russia, Japan (not Kiku anymore-won't be for some time), or even Arthur and Matthew (Alfred regrets not listening to their warnings).

But he knows it's his own fault.

Because, although he wavered in declaring his agreement, Alfred _did _agree to drop those bombs on Japan and get this whole mess started.

_'It's not like he doesn't deserve it.'_ He had reassured himself at the time, feeling nothing but fury and hatred towards the man who had wreaked havoc in the Pacific and on his own shores (burning and screaming and crying and _'a day which will live in infamy'_).

But maybe Alfred was wrong.

(So wrong, so _very_ wrong.)

Alfred saw the devastation caused by only _two_ of the weapons. He is well aware of the death toll, the risk of cancer, and the mutations. Civilians should not be a part of war, let alone be casualties, and although Japan and his army committed many atrocities, the civilians (for the most part) were completely unaware.

He wonders how Truman gave the order so easily, spewed some worthless rhetoric (because really, how were they to know that there _wasn't_ another way?), and gave it again. It's been contemplated since (specifically in regards to the Soviet Union), but none of his presidents have issued that command.

They all keep a finger posed to press the button, though.

Alfred does too: there's a safe-box under his bed (with two locks and a special access code) that contains the button that will send Moscow back to the Earth. He takes it out almost every night and stares at it, his index finger twitching responsively, as if pulling a trigger.

_(Imprints of human bodies on the asphalt, peeling skin, the smell of burnt flesh.)_

But Alfred puts it away again, disgusted with himself and his idiocy. Pressing that button would be akin to pulling billions of triggers: the Soviets would see it coming, send a retaliatory strike, and then the bombing in Europe and elsewhere would begin.

There goes the world.

Of course, just pressing the button wouldn't launch the missiles; it would issue a command to a base in Turkey, which would brief the officers there concisely. They would run through the procedure, turn the key to switch the arms online, and press another button.

But it all comes back to him, at least with the few missiles which are under his jurisdiction, and he can't stop thinking about it.

This entire thing was a horrible idea, he knows. It makes it incredibly easy to kill millions-even _billions_-with the pushing of a few buttons.

(And pushing a button far from your victims is a far easier task than killing them yourself, and watching the light fade from their eyes. It distances you from the reality of what you're doing, and that's terrifying.)

Alfred wishes that they would stop the testing: he'd been to a test site, in the beginning.

They had walked him through the model town twice, before and after; the dummies that represented people had been incinerated by the blast. The first thing he did when he arrived at his home was stagger to the bathroom and puke (in between sobs).

All he wants to do is save people, but he's putting the _world _at risk instead. He can't remember when he became the villain.

Maybe he's not, he thinks weakly, but Russia won't stop, and Alfred refuses to allow the evils of Communism to spread and terrorize others. The only way for this to end is for the Soviet Union to break up and for the Arms Race to stop.

It seems like an impossible task. Neither side is going to step down any time soon. All he can do is hope that, someday, it will end. That this will stop.

But until then...

He's left with the knowledge that he could bring the entire world down at the push of a button, and that there are others with the same weapons at their disposal. So many people with the power to pass judgment on those they see as enemies.

How long before someone decides to press their button?

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><p><strong>AN: Until next time, my lovely readers!**


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